\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2109575-RoseThorn-Academy
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: E · Short Story · Young Adult · #2109575
A short story I wrote for a class paper
I was fourteen when my parents sent me to the elite RoseThorn Academy. To be sent there was like receiveing a blessing from the gods-well, to most normal girls, that's what it felt like. For me, it was similiar to receiveing a death sentence.
I had heard the rumors of the academy from the girls who had not been chosen to attend. They all claimed the instructors were evil sorcerers who drained the students of their youth in order to remain powerful. There was also a rumor about a student mysteriously dying a few years back.
However, I did believe in that particular rumor. It was only because my sister had attended RoseThorn and had mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again. My parents kept telling me that she had moved to a new village to start a new life but they had no explanation as to why she never answered my letters or came to visit us.
Hence, my reluctance to journey far from my home to live at the cursed school. I would leave behind all familiar and have to live with twenty strange girls for an entire year. As I climbed into the wagon the morning of my voyage, I even felt an icy cold breeze surround me. It was a clear warning for me to stay where I was, safe in my village, but my parents refused to listen to my pleas.
The travel there was only half a day's ride. I sat next to my father, silent and rigid. He cast numerous worried glances in my direction though he never spoke. I wanted to tell him of my fear and superstitions. I wanted to tell him many things. Unfortunately, my head remained empty and my voice refused to form the necessary words.
It was when he pulled the wagon to a halt in front of the academy that he finally spoke. For the first time in my life, I noticed how old my father looked. There were several deep lines etched around his faded blue eyes and across his broad forehead. He seemed not only sad but lost in a way.
"Promise me that you'll study hard and attempt to make a few friends, won't you?" I managed a weak smile. My father knew me well. He knew I was shy and hesitant to trust others.
"I promise, Father. I will do my best."
"Brenna, will you promise me something else?" Here, at the sound of his voice, my brows furrowed. He glanced back at the academy. A trace of fear momentarily shone behind his eyes. He firmly gripped my shoulders.
"Please, promise me you'll stay safe. Trust your instincts and find good company with at least one other person. There's a reason why strength in numbers is a well-known saying."
"What do you mean? Am I in danger here?" My father merely kissed me on the forehead, climbed back into the wagon and left.
I watched the cloud of dust eventually fade further and further into the distance. A sharp breeze appeared from the south and nearly knocked me over. I gathered my courage though my eyes were full of tears then turned to face RoseThorn Academy.
The academy resembled a miniature version of a castle though it was a two-story house. It was complete with four towers, clay shingled roofs and hundreds of six-paned windows. There was a large circular stained glass window of a red rose above the large oak double doors. Wide stone steps led to the front doors while a narrow, faded brown walk-way stretched from the dirt road to the steps. There were numerous rosebushes of red and white bordering the perimeter of the house. A small stable was to the east and a large lake was to the back of the school. Miles of heavily-wooded forests surrounded the academy on all sides.
I must admit, from the outside, the school was beautiful. I almost felt excited about entering the academy and exploring the inside. I was curious, to say the least. Although, no matter how hard I tried to urge my feet forward, I could not move. It were as if an invisible force held me in place.
I'm not sure how long I stood there. One of the instructors finally had to come out and bring me inside, saying I was the last to arrive. Apparently, they had been waiting for me.
The teacher, an elderly woman with surprisingly smooth skin and clear eyes, led me past the main staircase and into a small sitting room. I noticed the feel of the air as soon as I entered the house. It was stale, heavy and not at all inviting. The looks I received from the other girls once I was seated, strangely mimicked the atmosphere.
All except for two of the girls sitting near the back of the room. They had immediately fixed their eyes on me and had refused to look away. They seemed drawn to my presence, as I was to them. Perhaps it was due to them having an ordinary appearance like me and not arrogant or spoiled like the other girls.
Regardless of how badly I wanted to turn and introduce myself, I listened intently to the teachers' speech about the rules of the academy. We were to be assigned rooms, either a single or double. We could not write our families or visit during holidays. We had to be indoors by nine o clock, no exceptions, and we were only allowed a monthly visit to the nearest town but in a group.
After the speech, we were all divided up and led to our rooms. Our trunks would be delivered and placed the next day. For now, the teachers wanted to get us settled for the night.
I couldn't help but feel like I was trapped as I climbed the wooden staircase. I thought it odd that we weren't allowed to contact our families. Something didn't seem right about the rules but it seemed as though I was the only one who cared.
I was fortunately given a single room. I had sensed strong disgust from the other girls once they had seen me. I was apparently not good enough with my plain looks and shabby clothes to be considered a potential friend for these girls who were obviously from wealthy families. Thus, I was content with my situation-I value my privacy.
The two girls who had captured my attention earlier were staying in the double room at the end of the hall. As they passed me, the taller of the two nodded her head and flashed a tiny smile. Her eyes were a bright yet odd shade of blue. They focused on mine and I almost stopped breathing.
I watched them disappear down the hall. They had walked with such grace and poise, I would have thought they were ghosts. It had looked like they had floated above the floor.
I entered my own room and closed the door. Feeling tired and uneasy, I kicked my shoes off and sat on the bed. For a long time, I simply stared into empty space. I wanted to sleep but the house made so much noise, creaking and moaning, that I knew I would be unable to get a good night's rest.
I decided to lie back and seek comfort in my thoughts. I listened to the wind rattle against the windows as the hours slowly slipped by. For one moment, I started to fade into a deep slumber. However, a loud creak outside my door forced me to bolt awake in alarm.
I could see a dark shadow moving past my door from looking at the bottom of the door frame. It moved slowly, as if it were seeking something in particular. I carefully got down from my bed, crept across the cold wooden floor and went to peek out into the hall.
One of the many lit candles along the walls flickered. I glanced over at the other side of the hall. The door to the left of the double room was opened a crack. I nearly released a piercing cry as a tall, pitch black figure entered the room and softly closed the door.
For whatever reason, I waited there to see what would happen. Minutes passed, it could have been hours, I wasn't entirely sure. The house remained eerily quiet save for the wind outside.
I almost shut my door when I heard a faint but clear whimper. It wasn't a whimper of fear, like waking from a bad dream, but a true cry of panic. I felt my heart stop in my chest. A chill coursed through my body.
Despite my fear, I silently headed down the hall and came to a stop outside the door. I lifted the latch and let the door swing back into the room. I glanced around the door frame, only to find the room empty.
Confused, I went inside to look for the girl. The bed was empty, the window was closed and there was no other way she could have left without me seeing it. I didn't see any sign of the shadowy figure either.
Not thinking anything else of it, I returned to my room and was able to sleep. I had countless nightmares and a troubled conscience. When I awoke, it was no better. I went directly downstairs to confront one of the teachers.
However, upon reaching the bottom of the staircase, I came to a halt. The two girls from last night were waiting for me. One of them was leaning against the wall with her head bowed. The tall girl who had smiled at me stood off to the side, her fierce blue eyes set on mine.
"Don't bother telling them about the girl. They're already aware of it," she said.
"What do you mean? Aren't they worried? Why aren't they looking for her?" I wondered.
"They made an announcement this morning. Apparently, the girl was homesick and decided to leave in the middle of the night," she explained. The other girl lifted her head to look my way. I was quiet for a long time.
"That's a lie." My voice came out much louder than I expected. The tall girl smiled.
"I know. We agree with you."
"You do?" I glanced between them.
"Yes, for we saw the same thing you did." I noticed the line of concern forming on their faces.
"What should we do? What's going to happen to all of us?" I asked.
"We need to stick together. If you don't mind, I think it would be wise if the three of us stay close." I nodded though I felt slightly nervous to be forming an alliance of some sort with them. There was just something a little different about them and I couldn't put my finger on it.
My father's words suddenly entered my mind. 'Trust your instincts. There's a reason why strength in numbers is a well-known saying.' I now knew I was in danger but from who or what, I had yet to find out. All I could do was befriend these two strange girls and pray for our safety and our lives. Or, whichever came first.

© Copyright 2017 LuLuBelle (starfairy8303 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2109575-RoseThorn-Academy